the world i live in-海倫·凱勒自傳(英文版)

第4部分 (第4/7頁)

s　wele；　its　yelp　of　despair；　and　its　contented

snore；　the　cow's　moo；　a　monkey's　chatter；　the　snort　of　a　horse；　the

lion's　roar；　and　the　terrible　snarl　of　the　tiger。　Perhaps　I　ought　to

add；　for　the　benefit　of　the　critics　and　doubters　who　may　peruse　this

essay；　that　with　my　own　hands　I　have　felt　all　these　sounds。　From　my

childhood　to　the　present　day　I　have　availed　myself　of　every　opportunity

to　visit　zoological　gardens；　menageries；　and　the　circus；　and　all　the

animals；　except　the　tiger；　have　talked　into　my　hand。　I　have　touched　the

tiger　only　in　a　museum；　where　he　is　as　harmless　as　a　lamb。　I　have；

however；　heard　him　talk　by　putting　my　hand　on　the　bars　of　his　cage。　I

have　touched　several　lions　in　the　flesh；　and　felt　them　roar　royally；

like　a　cataract　over　rocks。

To　continue；　I　know　the　_plop_　of　liquid　in　a　pitcher。　So　if　I　spill　my

milk；　I　have　not　the　excuse　of　ignorance。　I　am　also　familiar　with　the

pop　of　a　cork；　the　sputter　of　a　flame；　the　tick…tack　of　the　clock；　the

metallic　swing　of　the　windmill；　the　laboured　rise　and　fall　of　the　pump；

the　voluminous　spurt　of　the　hose；　the　deceptive　tap　of　the　breeze　at

door　and　window；　and　many　other　vibrations　past　puting。

There　are　tactual　vibrations　which　do　not　belong　to　skin…touch。　They

perate　the　skin；　the　nerves；　the　bones；　like　pain；　heat；　and　cold。

The　beat　of　a　drum　smites　me　through　from　the　chest　to　the

shoulder…blades。　The　din　of　the　train；　the　bridge；　and　grinding

machinery　retains　its　〃old…man…of…the…sea〃　grip　upon　me　long　after　its

cause　has　been　left　behind。　If　vibration　and　motion　bine　in　my　touch

for　any　length　of　time；　the　earth　seems　to　run　away　whi